


Taming the Beast

by chujellies



Category: Bleach
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, GrimmIchi Bing 2021, Hurt / some comfort, Ichigo's POV, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Prompt Fic, and also ichigo in return, emotional distress, mentions of trauma, sorry i hurt grimmjow, what else am i possibly forgetting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:36:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28997619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chujellies/pseuds/chujellies
Summary: “I have a feeling I know what this is from. There is– There was a special kidō that the 12th Division had been working on. We had shown the other captains how it worked under the order of our dear departed Captain Yamamoto.” He paused to put a finger to his chin, lost in thought. “I don’t see why Aizen wouldn’t have been able to use it, he was masterful at kidō after all–““Get to the point, Kisuke,” snapped Yoruichi as she gave Grimmjow a frantic look.“It was a kidō for subduing and/or capturing a hollow, to make them obey. A shock collar,” he continued, eyes flicking to the arrancar breathing harshly across the room.--Urahara makes a joke and Yoruichi carries out the prank. Grimmjow their target.And it all goes seriously downhill from there.
Relationships: Grimmjow Jaegerjaques/Kurosaki Ichigo
Comments: 14
Kudos: 140





	Taming the Beast

**Author's Note:**

> this is for the bing prompt "animal" from the grimmichi server thats hosting the grimmichi big bang!  
> shout out to Plouton for enabling and giving me their blessing to write this!  
> and to both ArisuAmiChan and KittieMitties for helping me edit !!
> 
> it's my first time writing for Ichigo and i feel like eventually i want to add another part to this that's Grimmjow's side. we will see if it ends up happening or not!
> 
> also Sonnet 18 is totally and completely Shakespeare's and i take no credit lolol

The first time it happened, Ichigo had assumed Grimmjow was being his usual prickly self. It wasn’t as if the arrancar couldn’t handle himself, he always had a witty comeback seemingly at the ready. And perhaps, it had been because he was bordering on drunk that his retort didn’t come. He couldn’t say for sure. He had been pretty out of it himself. Yoruichi had brought out the hard stuff that night, some strange kind of shinigami moonshine mixture from her days at the academy. Urahara had grimaced, already looking a little green at the sight of the bottle. Turned out the nasty concoction had worked well.

Maybe too well _._

All of them, except the flash master herself with her insane high tolerance, had been close to drunk almost immediately, cheeks red and flushing. Ichigo had been sure the room was spinning.

He was also still getting used to the fact that Grimmjow would get cuddly with alcohol in his system. It was cute, really, a big scary arrancar turning into a snuggly cat– who would absolutely eviscerate him if he ever brought it up. They’d only been officially together for about two and a half months, and it's their fourth time joining Yoruichi and Urahara in drinking themselves to death. Could they do that? Drink themselves to death? Maybe. Either way, it was always a surprise to suddenly have his boyfriend draped over him, warm and nuzzling. Grimmjow was a cuddly drunk. In a… mauling kind of way. Couldn't keep his hands to himself, sometimes claws as likely to appear as not, and Ichigo was always, always his target. Hadn’t been any different that night. 

Grimmjow had begun his inebriated snuggling routine, crawling from his spot to Ichigo's right in order to head-butt his chest before climbing into his lap. His cheeks flushed in record time, splotchy red spreading to his neck and ears. It wasn’t like they didn’t touch each other, but it was rare in front of prying eyes. They were still trying to figure each other out. Not to mention, Grimmjow was possessive and he wanted everything Ichigo had to give all to himself. It always stirred something warm in his gut at the thought. That everything he was, every dark thought, every protective instinct, Grimmjow accepted. Wanted. Looked forward to it. The only one who had told him he was beautiful, even with that warbling voice and gooey eyes. 

So, when he got like this, he wasn’t sure just how to react. The last few times he tried not to, knowing how Grimmjow could be with Ichigo’s reactions, maybe would even threaten others in the room. But, that nightmare of a drink Yoruichi had poured him that evening was enough to push those thoughts aside this time, give him a giant lapse in judgement. Which some could argue was already there. Grimmjow had practically climbed him, rubbing his whole body against Ichigo to scent him. Started nuzzling the top of his head so hard his ear was pressed flat to his own shoulder. Stupidly encouraged it this time, pushing a hand into ridiculously soft blue hair, scratching at his scalp, Grimmjow effectively melting, pressing his full body weight against him. 

He could feel Urahara and Yoruichi’s eyes laser focused on him, manic grins on their faces. He silently prayed for his body not to react but when Grimmjow slid a black clawed hand into his shihakusho, he let out a small surprised moan. It had clearly spurred something in his partner, who had immediately stopped nuzzling, claws pushing into the smooth skin of his chest. Unsure if those claws were a threat or not, he leaned back and spared a glance towards the blue-haired menace occupying his space to find icy blues so blown out they were almost fully black. Everything was still for a long moment and Ichigo was afraid of what might happen, readied himself to have to leap to someone’s rescue. But, before he got a chance to do anything Grimmjow was straddling Ichigo’s lap and claiming his mouth. The lips against his were hungry, greedy, and the whole thing felt more like a punch than a kiss– a clear _‘that noise was mine’_. They were really going to have to talk about that later. 

“My my,” Yoruichi had purred, hiccuping in between. She'd had another few rounds, the next words out of her mouth were slurring horribly, “You’ve got quite the beast there, I-chi-gooo.”

Urahara hid his face behind his trusty fan, the grin evident in his voice, “Why yes he does, Yoruichi-san! I wonder… have you tried to tame said beast, Kurosaki-san?”

Grimmjow had bristled and pulled away just enough that Ichigo couldn’t see his eyes. His breathing strained, like he wasn’t getting enough air. 

“Oh-ho! Kisuke!” Yoruichi guffawed and slapped him on the back so hard he pitched forward into the table. He caught himself, barely, hat clinging to his hair through science or force of will. “What would you recommend? Should we give Ichigo some pointers?”

Ichigo had blue screened. They hadn’t gone that far. Sure, he had _thought_ about it, what healthy adult wouldn’t? But they were trying to take things slow, figure things out, even if occasionally the arrancar got wasted and designated ichigo as his personal space heater. But, everything was to make sure this was what Grimmjow had actually wanted. Ichigo hadn’t wanted to force him into anything. Feelings were already complicated, but feelings when it came to arrancar? Even more so. Not to mention both of them were new to the whole ‘relationship’ thing. Between two wars and various other bullshit Ichigo had never really had a chance for something like this before. 

Urahara deftly fixed his hat and repositioned his fan without missing a beat, “Well now there’s plenty you could use, Kurosaki-san! The first thing you should probably get for a wild animal is a collar and leash! Teach them to know their place!” He lowered his voice as Grimmjow dug clawed fingers into Ichigo’s shoulders, “Would you like a collar, Grimmjow-san?”

The howling laughter from Yoruichi filled the air as Grimmjow went rigid in Ichigo’s lap. Ichigo had expected some kind of remark, something to blow off what had been said but there was nothing. _Nothing_. Just ten punctures in his flesh and empty air in his lap. In the span of a few hearbeats, Grimmjow was gone, gone, gone. He heard a garganta open in the next room over. It had only made the pair across from him laugh harder. 

It should have been the first sign that something was off, really. But to say he was dense sometimes was an understatement. It wasn’t until Grimmjow disappeared for the entire _week_ afterwards that he knew something was wrong. He hadn’t even said goodbye let alone when he'd be back. But he waited. 

He always did.

Still, it had left him pondering the whole time what had gone wrong. If _he_ had done something wrong. Most of that night was fuzzy around the edges. The only thing that stood out was the mention of a collar. He knew Grimmjow didn’t want to be treated like a pet, knew his pride wouldn’t allow for such a thing. Could that have been all it was?

When Grimmjow finally decided to grace Ichigo with his presence, it had been in the dead of night, right in the middle of one of his nightmares. A clawed hand touching his face had startled him awake from all seeing eyes. He had let out the most undignified screech _ever_ , seeing Grimmjow’s silhouette in his resurrección hovering over him, like he was some kind of sleep paralysis demon. A raised eyebrow was all he got in return before Grimmjow released his resurrección and crawled into bed with him, sword and all. It'd be the first night they'd sleep in the same room together. Grimmjow asserted himself as the big spoon without a word, pulling Ichigo in close, burying his nose in the nape of his neck. It was hard to sleep with that hot breath in his ear, but gradually he nodded off in the bracket of his arms. 

Days passed and each time Ichigo tried to talk to Grimmjow about what had happened he was brushed off. It was obvious he didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew from experience that holding things in wasn’t the best idea. He knew whatever it was had _still_ been bothering him. Grimmjow _refused_ to be around Urahara, wouldn’t even stay for meals and that had been a shocker. Grimmjow passing up Tessai’s cooking? Especially when the man had made his favorite fish? It seemed unbelievable until Ichigo went to pick up candy for Yuzu and saw it first hand.

Over the next month, Grimmjow began to spend more and more time at the Kurosaki household. Sleeping there, eating. Which hadn’t been _too_ strange– the arrancar did get along well with his sisters and it wasn’t like Ichigo didn’t want him there. Yuzu had practically adopted him as a second older brother, had him try all kinds of different foods, made him watch her favorite shows. He’d complain the whole time, but he never missed an episode. Karin corralled him into playing goalie for her soccer practice– his cat-like reflexes giving her a good challenge. He'd gone as far as choosing a secluded area outside of Karakura instead of the bunker to spar. All of this seemed to ease whatever it was that was bothering him and slowly, eventually, Grimmjow allowed himself to be near Urahara again. 

Everything _seemed_ to be back to normal. Grimmjow returned to his room at the Shoten, began to eat meals there again. He still ended up in the Kurosaki household more often than before, even if he claimed it was only because Ichigo was there. He insisted over and over again that it absolutely wasn't for Yuzu’s cooking or to watch horror movies with Karin. Despite his totally not obvious enjoyment of his family, it pleased him to know that Grimmjow felt comfortable there. 

But the unease in Ichigo’s gut never seemed to settle. There was still something he couldn’t put his finger on. He chalked that night up to being intoxicated, because Grimmjow was back to his snippy remarks and insults. But his reaction, he was never one to run from anything, not ever. Because that had been what it was, hadn’t it? 

Running. 

Ichigo kept stewing over it as he tried to concentrate on the book in front of him. It didn’t work. Nothing seemed to work. He tried to push through, reading the same line over and over until finally he set it down with a huff. He was used to every thought drifting towards the blue-haired arrancar, but this was just ridiculous. Grimmjow was fine. Completely fine. Right? 

_‘Mm, ‘dunno, King. Seemed like something freaked 'im,’_ Shiro crooned, his warbling voice reverberating through his mind.

Well, _that_ wasn’t the kind of answer he wanted, or had even asked for. He pressed at his temples, wishing for the knot in his stomach to just _go away_. A self-induced ulcer was the last thing he needed. 

A sudden sharp rap on the window shook him from his thoughts. He turned to see the object of his concern smirking at him as he pushed the window open. He really needed to fix the lock on that thing. The afternoon sun wrapped that blue hair in glorious light, making it shine like a halo. Grimmjow was damn beautiful, a Classical Greek sculpture that had come to life. Despite the twist in his guts, a wide smile graced his face as Grimmjow made his way in, plopping down on the bed in front of him. The man really was the epitome of feline grace, even in a gigai. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he hoped the neighbours hadn't seen Grimmjow's burglar routine. He got a rare warm smile in return as the book he had been trying to read for the last hour was snatched. The smile made his heart thud against his chest. He had it bad if only a simple thing like that could melt his insides.

“Whatcha readin’, Kurosaki?”

Grimmjow held the book up and began to try to read before realizing it was upside down. Ichigo tried to smother a laugh with his hand but utterly failed. His boyfriend flashed narrowed eyes in his direction as he grumbled, flipping it right side up. He squinted at the book for a while before leveling Ichigo with a look.

“The fuck is this?”

“Shakespeare.”

“You actually read this garbage?” Grimmjow asked, face scrunched up, eyes flicking over the page.

He rolled his eyes and held out his hand, “It’s poetry; it’s expressive. Sometimes it helps you figure out your feelings. Give it here.” 

Surprisingly, he complied. Ichigo flipped through the little book of sonnets, intent on finding one the arrancar might like. He landed on Sonnet 147 and ignored how warm his ears were. He glanced at Grimmjow through his eyelashes, who had at some point stretched out in the sunbeam from the window like a sleepy cat. He had his arms folded behind his head, all the while staring at him expectantly. 

Ichigo cleared his throat and began,

" _My love is as a fever, longing still_

_For that which longer nurseth the disease,_

_Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill,_

_The uncertain sickly appetite to please._

_My reason, the physician to my love,_

_Angry that his prescriptions are not kept,_

_Hath left me, and I desperate now approve_

_Desire is death, which physic did except._

_Past cure I am, now reason is past care,_

_And frantic-mad with evermore unrest;_

_My thoughts and my discourse as madmen's are,_

_At random from the truth vainly express'd;_

_For I have sworn thee fair and thought thee bright,_

_Who art as black as hell, as dark as night._ "

He closed the book when he finished, cradling it close to his chest. He resonated with the sonnet more than he cared to admit. Felt, too, that his feelings were like a fever and that it was probably detrimental to his health in many ways. Knew deep down he was past ‘curing’, as he’d do anything for the blue-haired man before him. He vaguely wondered if he’d also succumb to madness over it. Probably would if he kept worrying about him like this.

“Kurosaki?” Grimmjow questioned, voice thick, like he had been choked, and much too quiet. 

Ichigo’s eyes snapped to his face. Cornflower blue bore into hazel brown, the face they were attached to looking entirely too soft, too open. Did he understand the sonnet? He wouldn’t put it past him. Underneath all that gruffness and anger was a man as sharp as a tack. He flushed and turned his gaze to the book in his lap. Mortified, he felt as the heat of his ears overtook his face and crept downwards, rubbed the back of his neck and dreading the state of his face. He was probably as red as a tomato, maybe even had steam coming out of his ears, and he knew it was getting worse with the way Grimmjow just kept gaping at him like a fish. He'd revealed far more than he'd intended without directly saying so. 

“Shut up,” was all he managed to sputter. He tossed the book at Grimmjow’s face, unsurprised when he caught it with ease. 

“Whatever, idiot,” Grimmjow said fondly after a few moments, obviously trying to regain some semblance of his composure. “Let’s go hit each other. I feel like I need to beat the sentimental crap out of you.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. Grimmjow elegantly leapt off the bed and waited by the bedroom door, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. At least he hadn’t decided to go back out the window. The neighbors would probably have a cow. Wait a minute– were those _his_ jeans? And _his_ shirt? How were they even _fitting_ him? The fact that he didn’t even notice until now was embarrassing. But, it also made his heart do a weird fluttering jig. Deciding to just keep quiet about all of it, he got up, grabbed his combat pass, and made his way out the door with Grimmjow. 

* * *

Soon they were opening the door to the Shoten, bickering like usual. He didn’t even know how the hell they got on the topic in the first place. Maybe Urahara had gotten take-out the night before? Sometimes he liked to give Tessai a break.

“I’m telling you, Kurosaki, pineapple on meat cake is gross!”

“It’s called _pizza_. And, if you keep talking like that we’re gonna have problems,” Ichigo grumbled, toeing off his Converses by the door. “Pineapple is delicious.” He heard Ururu sigh behind the counter at their antics and he gave her a wave before continuing into the main part of the house. 

Grimmjow tailed close behind after kicking off his own Converses. God knows where he even got those. “Tch. So, what then? You think ass is delicious?”

Ichigo turned halfway through the doorway and gave him the blandest look he could muster before aggressively gesturing between the both of them, “ _Obviously_.” 

A roar of laughter came from inside as a slight blush graced Grimmjow’s face. They stepped into the main house after sliding the door shut behind them to see Yoruichi clutching her stomach, nearly doubling over in a laughing fit. “God, you two never fail to get me off.” 

“Oi, no one wants to think about your musty–”

Ichigo choked, quickly interrupting them, “Could you just get Urahara to open the bunker? I need to put this punk in his place for the blatant disrespect of pineapple.”

“Well, I just so happen to have something that can help with that!” Yoruichi responded excitedly. And, with a blink she was off. 

The pair barely had a minute to give each other matching eyebrow raises and step further inside before she was back and throwing herself at Grimmjow. He tried to duck, he really did. A valiant effort– but no one was a match for Yoruichi when she had the element of surprise. They both dropped to the floor in a heap, scrapping much like a couple cats. Grimmjow growled and snapped his teeth, but there was only so much he could do in a gigai. Sadly, the meat suit made him just like Ichigo, soft, squishy, and easily held down.

“What the hell, Yoruichi?” Ichigo yelled before she finally let go and stepped away, smiling like the cat who got the cream. 

“Oh! You got it on him!” Urahara said, grinning as he sauntered in, fan suddenly snapping open in front of his face. “Been trying for weeks but he only lets his guard down around you, Kurosaki-san.”

Ichigo’s stomach lurched, a sense of foreboding washing over him. “What–? Got what on him? What did you _do_?” He turned to Grimmjow who was sitting up slowly, and his face blanched. There around the arrancar’s neck was a teal collar that matched his estigma.

Oh no. Oh, _fuck no._

The first joke, if it could even be called that now, had _barely_ been handled, and still never fully talked through. It was obviously something that needed more time to heal and now this? Clearly none of this was going to help. Clenching his teeth he berated himself. He was so _stupid_ for not believing Grimmjow all those months ago, the one time the arrancar had deemed it safe to open up about what had been happening at the Shoten. The one time he'd decided to open up only to be waved off? No wonder he didn’t want to talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

He whirled on Yoruichi, anger surging at himself and the conspirators, “ _Why would you do something like that_?”

“Why not?” she laughed, hands on her hips. Everything about her reeked of smugness and victory.

“An animal must be tamed after all!” Urahara chimed in, fan fluttering. 

Ichigo turned from both of them in disgust, biting at his bottom lip to keep from saying something he’d regret. He crouched down in front of Grimmjow who hadn’t even moved or made any attempt at removing the collar. It was like after sitting up, he became a statue, eyes glazed over and distant, a barely-there tremor in his shoulders.

“Grimm?” He called softly, waving a hand in front of his face. “Grimmjow, can you hear me?”

“Yes, Aizen-sama,” came the choked response. 

Ichigo felt his heart drop into his stomach. Aizen? _What_? The giggles coming from behind him immediately halted. The silence was deafening. He could have laughed. Why not, Yoruichi? This was why not. 

“N-no, Grimm. It’s me, Ichigo.”

“Ichigo?” He questioned, like he didn’t know who he was, like he didn’t spend years of his life flinging himself over and over at the human before him.

His chest squeezed and he swallowed hard, “Y-yeah, you know, the dork that read you love poetry.” 

Recognition sparked in lost blue eyes. “Kurosaki,” he breathed out.

Ichigo tried to smile but it faltered. Grimmjow hadn't reached for the collar at all. He had been so against the very idea of it that he left for a _week_ and avoided Urahara for a _month_ . So, why–? He tried to rack his brain for answers. Anything. Clearly part of this had something to do with Aizen. What the hell had that bastard done? He stared at the teal collar around Grimmjow's neck. It wasn't anything special, essentially just a leather strap with a buckle. But, Grimmjow was so _stiff_ , barely breathing. His fingers twitched like he wanted to do something, wanted to rip it off, but he just.

Sits. Stays perfectly still like he’s expecting something to come if he twitches or shifts even a little bit. Throat bared a bit in submission. All kinds of wrong.

 _‘What if it had been more, King?’_ Shiro supplied. _‘A collar, but something else.’_

Something? Else? What else is there? What could make Grimmjow completely obedient, could strip him of the will to fight? What horrible things could Aizen have pulled with him? Did he also do it to the other arrancar? There were so many questions bombarding him, so many things he was sure to never get an answer for. Maybe he could ask Nel at some point, maybe she’d be willing to humor him. First things first though.

He _had_ to get that collar off of him.

“Grimm, let’s get that off of you, huh?” Ichigo reached slowly for the collar, hands in Grimmjow’s line of sight at all times.

As his fingers brushed the collar, Grimmjow’s pupils contracted to pinpricks and the almost non-existent breathing hitched. That had obviously been the wrong method of approach, because Grimmjow backpedaled away from him like a frightened wounded animal. 

“Only Aizen-sama,” Grimmjow choked out, panic clear on his face. 

“Only Aizen?” Ichigo parroted quietly. 

Urahara cleared his throat, “I believe he’s referring to the collar, Kurosaki-san. That Aizen is the only one who can remove it.” Ichigo shot him a glare, he wasn’t stupid, and Urahara raised his hands in defense. “I have a feeling I know what this is from. There is– There was a special kidō that the 12th Division had been working on. We had shown the other captains how it worked under the order of our dear departed Captain Yamamoto.” He paused to put a finger to his chin, lost in thought. “I don’t see why Aizen wouldn’t have been able to use it, he was masterful at kidō after all–“

“Get to the point, Kisuke,” snapped Yoruichi as she gave Grimmjow a frantic look. 

“It was a kidō for subduing and/or capturing a hollow, to make them obey. A shock collar,” he continued, eyes flicking to the arrancar breathing harshly across the room.

A shock collar. Ichigo exhaled forcefully and groaned. Of all things, a shock collar. He scrunched his eyes shut and rubbed at his temples. What the hell were they supposed to do now? His boyfriend had been tortured by Aizen and had refused to talk about it. The knot in his gut twisted further, he felt anger taking control. 

“You knew he reacted badly to that joke! Why did you have to push it so far?” Ichigo growled, finally leaving the crouch. He raised to his full height, hands clenched into tight fists at his sides. Callused hands ached to hold Zangetsu, to _hit_ something.

“Ichigo, we didn’t know,” whispered Yoruichi, her tone was apologetic, but it did nothing to calm him. 

“That’s not an excuse! Both of you push his buttons _all the time_ and then wonder why he lashes out!" He grimaced.

"He tried to tell me, you know, a while back. About the pranks you pull with him. And, I didn't take him seriously. I thought ‘Oh how could it be that bad? They could never be that _cruel_.’ Well, now I see and that’s it. He’s staying with me from now on,” he seethed, digging his hands into orange locks. Something to ground himself, something to stop him from lashing out at the people he was supposed to trust.

“Ichigo–”

“He’s not an animal! How could you do this?” He yelled before dragging a hand down his face. “Just help me get the damn thing off of him.”

They scuffled with Grimmjow for a while, knocking over furniture in their wake– had to scramble and chase him around the Shoten, delirious as he was. Even Yoruichi had trouble keeping a grip on the arrancar, gigai and all. He was driven by pure fear and instincts. Terror had to be the strangest thing Ichigo had ever seen on his face. He was so sure Grimmjow wasn't capable of feeling it that it felt so wrong, so nauseating. Anytime anyone managed to get their hand close enough, he snapped and yowled, like if they were to take off the collar he'd die. Eventually Tessai came from upstairs, drawn to the commotion. He used a kidō _–why hadn’t anyone even thought of that–_ to halt Grimmjow's escape and pin him down. Yoruichi and Urahara gave Grimmjow a wide berth as Tessai concentrated on his kidō.

Ichigo approached him warily as Grimmjow struggled with the binding. His eyes were wide, full of dread. His breathing was frantic. What the hell had Aizen done to him? He wanted to march right into Soul Society and unleash hell all over again. 

“Kurosaki,” he bit out through clenched teeth, a warning. 

“Grimmjow, just _trust_ me,” Ichigo pleaded.

“Aizen-sama–”

“Can't hurt you. Not anymore,” he finished for him, firmly. 

Grimmjow stopped struggling, eyes focused entirely on Ichigo. They stared at each other for a long moment, not breaking eye contact for even a second. Grimmjow gave a slight nod of permission and braced himself. He could see all those muscles straining to keep still, to let it happen. Ichigo gradually reached for the collar, still maintaining eye contact. He held his breath as he gripped the thin leather, making Grimmjow flinch. 

He quickly unlatched the collar and tossed it away. “Let him go, Tessai.”

Tessai released the binding kidō and Grimmjow’s hand immediately went to his throat, as if he needed to check to make sure either the collar was gone or his head was still there. Ichigo backed away a bit, making sure to stay in his line of sight, and sat down on the floor facing him, refusing to get any closer. There was a burning need to wrap him in hugs and protection, but he figured Grimmjow needed space. Besides, he wanted to give his boyfriend a chance to decide what he wanted. Give him a choice, one he had clearly never had with Aizen. 

“You’re welcome to come back home with me, Grimm. But, you’re also free to go,” he murmured. “If you go, I’ll be waiting if you decide to come back.”

Grimmjow snorted at him while looking away, a clear attempt at trying to push away what just happened. “I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s anything but pity. I’m fuckin’ pissed,” he snarled, glancing at Yoruichi and Urahara out of the corner of his eye. They at least had the decency to look ashamed. 

Grimmjow glanced back and forth between the three of them, taking a moment to mull things over. “Let’s go, Kurosaki,” his voice hoarse. 

* * *

The first few nights back at the Kurosaki household were... weird. Despite the extra futon that was rolled out, Grimmjow clung to Ichigo. It wouldn’t have bothered him so much if– Well, it’s obvious Grimmjow felt safer in his released state, but being nearly crushed against bone plate armor while trying to sleep wasn't pleasant by any stretch of imagination. The constant contact wasn't a nighttime exclusive either. He followed him around the house plastered to his side, refusing to leave even when Ichigo needed to shower or use the bathroom. 

About a week or so later _–it’s been nine days but who’s keeping count–_ it seems like Grimmjow settles, opting not to be in constant resurrección. He still won’t talk about it though. Barely speaks at all, honestly. It’s _awkward_ . He’ll answer if someone addresses him, asks him something, but he won't make a sound otherwise. The usual curiosity about human things seems to have vanished. There’s no witty comebacks either. No insults, no bickering. Even _sparring_ is out of the question, which feels the most unsettling. He moves to the futon instead and Ichigo finds he’d take the stiff armor over the loss of the body in his bed. He doesn’t know how to express it, doesn’t know how to get Grimmjow to talk openly either. So, at night he starts the routine of reading a sonnet aloud before attempting to sleep. It gets Grimmjow in bed with him for a short time, even if they aren’t touching. He hopes just listening to his voice is soothing.

Ichigo makes it to Sonnet 18 before Grimmjow stops sleeping at night. He’s restless and paces like an animal in a cage. It isn’t long before he starts disappearing to Hueco Mundo for long periods of time. Every time he comes back he’s– overly groomed. _Pristine_. Hair slicked back, not a strand out of place. He’s back in his jacket and hamaka, and Ichigo's heart tries to escape into his throat. 

Ichigo enlists the help of the entire Kursosaki household. This was a family matter, and Grimmjow’s family, always will be even if their relationship is up in the air right now. He delves into research about trauma. Does his best to find anything and everything that could help him get through to Grimmjow, to help him cope. Yuzu cooks all his favorites, picks out sappy movies about feelings for them to watch, tells him she’s always willing to listen. She leaves immaculately folded clean clothes and sheets for when he comes back from Hueco Mundo. If he wants cleanliness and order he can have it. A schedule is created and everyone follows it. Even Ichigo, whose bouts of insomnia keep him from getting decent sleep. A new dresser appears in Ichigo’s room one day, full of things just Grimmjow’s size. Soon an actual bed is squeezed into the corner. Karin cracks jokes and engages Grimmjow in games when he manages to show up. Holds a soccer ball up in front of his face until he goes with her to the backyard to practice. Isshin officially welcomes Grimmjow to the family, wails in front of Masaki that they have a new son. They even set up game night, alternating between cards and boardgames. It’s probably the most they’ve ever done together as a family. Isshin gives a phone to Grimmjow, doesn’t mention it’s from Urahara trying to make up for his guilt– the phone will work in Hueco Mundo, help him keep track of time and the days of the living world while he’s away. 

And then, there’s Kon. Kon who is more quiet than he’s ever been, who makes no sudden movements around Grimmjow, no loud wailing. Will just sit down and share the same space with him, a small soothing presence. There’s days when he comes clambering out of the closet after Grimmjow has left it, looking a little flattened and tear streaked, but none the worse for wear. He says nothing, betrays nothing. Everything is between him, Grimmjow, and the dark cozy space of the closet. A sanctuary that Ichigo has used himself on more than one occasion.

And every night, whether Grimmjow is there or not, Ichigo reads Shakespeare out loud. After he finishes the Sonnets, he goes through all the plays one by one. Soon Grimmjow comes back more often, sits on the windowsill listening to Ichigo read. He's flighty at best, but Ichigo will be there when he’s ready. They all just try to support him as best they can, and hope he knows he has a real home to come back to now.

The damage may have been done but now Ichigo’s going to try to fix it, if he can. 


End file.
